Madness
by Miratete
Summary: The sequel to "Teleport-Mea." Crying Swan and Floria head off on their honeymoon, finding adventure when only wanting peace and quiet together.
1. Zi'Tah

This story is a sequel to Teleport-Mea, events in it taking place immediately after the wedding of the Galka Crying Swan and the Hume Floria. While it stands alone as a completed work, you may wish to read Teleport-Mea first to learn a bit more about the main characters and their circumstances in this fanfic.

**Madness**

**Chapter One - Li'Telor**

For a long time they knelt at prayer in the Cathedral. When Vicasque Arnau noticed that they were not part of his usual congregation of Paradise-seekers, he spoke with them. And when he learned that they were newlyweds, he blessed their union, ad-libbing much of the blessing, given the unconventional pairing, leaving out anything that foretold of childbearing. There seemed to be more mixed couples about these days, what with the adventuring crowd marrying anyone they felt like. Why did all these men feel the need to come home with a Mithra bride? On the positive side, the orphanages had all but disappeared as these couples sought to raise families. Arnau wondered how these two would fare, for rarely did Galkas take wives. But he blessed them anyway, for they were still the children of Altana, given life by her infinite love.

Crying Swan and Floria thanked him and made a donation to the priest at the door on their way out. The spring day was sunny and warm, and they paused outside to enjoy the sunshine. The San d'Orian air had seemed cold to them when they first arrived after the wedding ceremony, but now there was warmth in the bright sunshine and the hint of spring in the air. The lawns outside of the Cathedral were even beginning to turn green.

Moving on again, Floria teleported them to the Crag of Mea. Chocobos were hired, and they rode north, first into the Meriphtaud Mountains and then up into the Sanctuary of Zi'Tah. Even though it was just past midday, little light reached the forest floor. The great trees, thousands of years old, stood like great towers, sheltering the moss and mists with their branches. Floria had made arrangements with the outpost there, that they might spend the night in the guest quarters. "We'll ride first to the outpost to let them know we've arrived, and then ride on to the Hall of the Gods."

While most of the couples they knew had gone off to Kazham or Purgonorgo Isle to enjoy their first days together as husband and wife, Crying Swan had requested something more spiritual and contemplative for their honeymoon. His suggested plan was to first visit the Cathedral in San d'Oria, then to visit the Hall of the Gods in Zi'Tah, and finally to spend a week or so exploring the ancient ruins on Zepwell Island. Floria of course had agreed, happy to follow him anywhere.

On arriving at the outpost, they were greeted enthusiastically, and were immediately received by the commander, one Captain Gaury, a tall Bastokan soldier with a well-preened appearance. "We were so delighted by your coming here that we're preparing you a wedding dinner for tonight. It's not often that we receive such distinguished guests way out here." He escorted them into the building and sent their bags off to the guestroom with his clerk.

It became immediately obvious that the staff of the outpost had gone to much trouble for the bridal pair. The hall inside, normally spartan and utilitarian in appearance, had been hung with garlands of paper flowers and freshly cut greenery. The long central table had been covered with a pale blue tablecloth and bedecked with vases of flowers. Immaculate white china, looking uncomfortably out of place in the military outpost, had been laid out carefully, and upon each setting a well-starched cloth napkin had been folded into a Rarab shape. At the center of the table atop a velveteen draped pedestal, an ornately decorated wedding cake presided under a glass dome

A lady Tarutaru suddenly burst from the kitchen dressed in the familiar uniform of the cooking guild. Flour streaked her cheek and a large, well-used wooden spoon seemed her scepter of office. "You're here! Oh! We've been so excited about your coming!"

Captain Gaury bashfully introduced his mother.

"When my son told me that there were a pair of newlyweds coming to spend their wedding night at the outpost I thought to myself: 'oh, that will never do' so here I am to make it do. Now I'm told that you're first going up to see the Hall of the Gods, so please tell me when you'll return to I can have supper ready." She turned toward the kitchen. "Ameymey! Come here please!" She turned back to the couple. "Now what time please?"

"Please, Mother," the captain said defensively. "They only just arrived."

"Oh...hmmm...well...." Floria turned to her husband, who looked back at her with the same expression of bewilderment.

"I...well..." he stammered. "Well what time is dinner normally served around here?

Another Tarutaru came out of the kitchen, her head covered with a chef's cap, one arm cradling a mixing bowl while the other worked some sort of dough with a fork.

"At 19:00," said the captain.

"Then 19:00 will be fine."

"Supper will be at 19:00 then!" beamed Mother. "Ameymey, supper at 19:00, and get a good look at the couple now before they leave for the afternoon. Oh! Aren't they darling?" She shook the hem of Crying Swan's blue cape. "Bend down, big boy, so Ameymey can see what color your eyes are." Swan obliged her, wondering what his eye-color had to do with anything, but some people could get so hung up on pointless things like that. "Handsome for a Galka, isn't he?" Mother decided aloud.

Captain Gaury looked ready to faint.

Ameymey nodded and went back to her mixing, taking her bowl back to the kitchen. "And get out another steak for the groom!" Mother called after her.

Outside, out of his mother's earshot, Captain Gaury apologized for all the fuss. "Please don't let my mother frighten you away. I asked her to come and cook something simple-but-nice for a couple of honeymooners, and she turned it into a big production. She has this thing for weddings. But on the positive side, she's one of the best cooks anywhere. It's a meal you'll never forget, and I can't tell you what a morale booster it's been for my men. She's cooked for them a few times before, so they know what's coming.

Calliope, the sentry on duty at the flag nodded. "We all started drooling when we heard."

"We'll look forward to it then," said Crying Swan graciously.

"Thank you. Your visit means a lot to everyone here, to be honest."

"Forgive me for asking," Floria began, "but how did you come to have her as your mother?"

Captain Gaury apparently was used to the question, for his answer came quickly. "Well, my real mother ran off with some Dragoon when I was five, and shortly thereafter my father was assigned as a guard at the Bastokan Consulate in Windurst. She was the neighbor my father paid to look after me while he was on duty. Pretty soon she was looking after him too, what with that wonderful cooking of hers. They always say you can win a man's heart by winning his stomach first, and so just before his two year tour in Windurst ended, he married her to ensure she came home to Bastok with us." He laughed at his strange circumstances. "It was kinda odd at first, calling her Mom, since I was taller than she was."

"Cute story. I suppose I can relate, being in a mixed marriage myself."

Swan's hand lighted on her shoulder. "Learn to cook and all will work out well for us," he grinned.

"Of course, Darling." Floria said with the taint of sarcasm in her voice, and then turned back to Gaury. "Thank you so much, Captain, and we'll be off now to the Hall of the Gods, but expect us back here at 19:00."

Gaury saluted and helped her onto the waiting Chocobo.

* * *

As they approached the northeast passage that lead to Ro'Maeve, the Conquest Overseer waved them down. "You must be Crying Swan. I was sent word that there was a party at the Outpost for you and your bride tonight." Dedden, also a Galka, stretched up his hand to Crying Swan, who took it in greeting. "And you must be the lovely bride," he said, walking around to Floria's Chocobo. He took her hand and kissed it in the Hume fashion. "I was told that I had to come tonight, and I most certainly will," he said gazing up at her almost reverently. "I convinced Ochocho to come up and take my place out here tonight. She's the War Warlock who takes this spot when Windurst has control over the area."

Swan chuckled. "That was good of her."

Dedden sighed as he walked back to his post. "I had to promise her a bottle of Bastokan brandy for the favor, and not the cheap stuff."

"Eh, Tarutarus. Who can resist them?" He turned again to Floria "Ready?"

Floria nodded.

"See you tonight, Dedden."

Dedden saluted a goodbye as the couple rode off.

They paused at the gates of Ro'Maeve to enjoy the sandwiches Mother had packed up for them, and they were indeed delicious. Heading in, they slipped noiselessly through the maze of passages and courtyards, carefully dodging the monstrosities that lived there, until at last they came to the great Hall of the Gods. Entering in, they walked about silently for a long time, staring up in wonderment at the statues all around them—Altana, Promathia, and their attendants. "I still remember the first time I came here," Swan reminisced, finally breaking the stillness. "You were at my side."

"I was behind you," Floria corrected him.

"You're at my side now, and that's what's important."

Floria hugged his massive arm and laid her cheek against his glove affectionately. "I don't remember it that much. We had been doing so much in those days, and I was still frightened of the creatures in the forest, and terrified of those out in Ro'Mave."

"I was there to protect you. We all were." He picked her up in his arms, and as always she wrapped hers about his short neck. How often he had carried her like this when things had gone wrong, or simply when she was exhausted. Swan walked to the edge of the cermet causeway that they stood on. "How about a swim?"

"Too cold."

"So?" He moved his arms away from his body, making her gasp and cling all the tighter. Her fingers wrapped under his gorget. And then he stepped right to the edge of the causeway.

"Nooooo!" Floria squealed.

"You sure?" he teased, moving his arms even further away. Her legs began to slide out of his hold.

"No! No! No! If you throw me in you're in big trouble!"

He laughed and set her down solidly on the cermet. "I'll be nice...today." He had thrown her, and most of the members of the linkshell into fountains and ponds before—his strange sense of humor—so the threats were not completely idle.

He looked up again at the statue before him, his hands resting on his hips. The statue's head and shoulders had cracked off in ancient times and now lay visible on the watery floor of the temple. Crying Swan began unbuckling his armor.

"Here?" Floria gasped, taken rather aback.

"Why not?"

"But this is holy ground."

"All the better," he responded, ducking out of his shoulder plates. "Now undo me."

Obediently she helped him to undress, and soon he stood in his loincloth, his pale skin almost the same color as the cermet around them. "Hopefully there's nothing down there that I can't handle, but be ready just in case." From his Gobbiebag he removed his goggles, knife, and noseclip.

"I've never known a Galka as water-loving as you," she grinned. "You're the swimmingest guy I've ever met."

He bent forward and kissed her forehead, then dove gracefully into the mirror-still water. Floria smiled and watched him make for the temple floor. Then she tidied his armor into a neat pile before seating herself on the lip of the causeway to watch her husband pretend to be a fish. Even more than throwing his friends into the water, he loved throwing himself into it. So often when they had been out adventuring, Swan would suddenly go missing, only to be found in a nearby river. He had swum in Lake Mechiume. He had swum in the Mhaura harbor. He had swum in the Phananuet Channel. He had broken through the ice of a pond in Beaucedine Glacier to swim in the frigid waters there. He had been quite disappointed when they had not found enough water in the Toraimorai Canal to swim in. He never went anywhere without his three beloved pieces of swimming gear.

Floria watched him below, his great arms drawing him through the water, his tail swishing from side to side with a fish-like movement. He would come to the surface to breathe, taking in enormous lungfuls of air with a great gasp before diving again. And when he had had enough of diving, he swam lazy laps through the temple on his back, gazing up meditatively at the statues above him.

His wife waited patiently, listening to the splash of water, her eyes upturned as well. Birds flew amongst the sunbeams that fell from the high windows of the hall. The sound of their flapping wings carried far in the still air. She looked to the spreading statue of Altana and whispered a prayer that her marriage would always know the love and calm of this moment, even when the world outside was full of storm and sadness. Surely there were trials in store for them, but their love could see them through it all...hopefully

As the sunbeams rose and faded, signaling the approach of evening, Crying Swan finally pulled himself from the crystalline waters. Dripping and shivering, he took a towel from his Gobbiebag and dried himself off. Floria helped him to dress again. "I'm famished!" he announced. "I'm so looking forward to dinner now."

"I'll bet you are. You were swimming a long time." Floria dug into her own Gobbiebag and found a few stale rolanberry pies. "You can eat these for now. They're kinda old, but they're still good."

He consumed them without any further encouragement. "Anything tastes good right now," he said, brushing the crumbs off of his face.

When he had all of his armor back on, she playfully combed his hair back for him. On looking into her mirror, he decided it too uninteresting and re-combed it into two forward-swept points. "Oh come on..." she groaned. "We're going to a party in our honor now."

"Exactly."

Floria's response was a frustrated sigh of acceptance.

* * *

The honeymoon continues in Chapter Two of Madness.

* * *

FFXI and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of SquareEnix. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	2. The Wedding Night

**Madness**

**Chapter Two – The Wedding Night**

When they returned to the Outpost, they were greeted by the sight of the guards wearing crowns of greenery and wildflowers. Similar wreaths were immediately placed upon the heads of the bridal pair. "Mother insists," whispered the burly Hume apologetically as he bedecked Crying Swan. "Gaury's our commander, but Mother gives the orders. She said it's an old tradition of her tribe."

Floria smirked. It covered the ridiculous hairstyle.

On going inside, they were greeted and taken to the long table, seated at the head, and served huge goblets of San d'Orian wine. The beautiful cake before them was now topped by the figures of a Tarutaru bride and groom delicately sculpted out of marzipan. Crying Swan was delighted and he suddenly understood the eye-color thing. Leaning close, He could see that the male Tarutaru had his features, right down to his hairstyle, at least the hairstyle he had been wearing earlier. "He looks like you!" Floria exclaimed.

"The bride looks like you, even if she's a Taru."

"Ameymey makes those from almond paste. She's quite talented," said Gaury, entering the hall.

The rest of the guards and staff of the outpost came in and began to sit around the table, Captain Gaury taking the seat closest to Swan, and Calliope, the chief sentry, taking the one closest to Floria. Everyone appeared to be as dressed up as possible, most having something other than their duty armor to wear. Calliope even had on a gown, the colors of which matched the flowers in her wreath. Mother came out of the kitchen to see if everyone was in place, and when they were, she ducked back into the kitchen. Shortly thereafter, she and Ameymey began delivering salads to the table. Mother followed with a cruet of dressing.

The salads were followed by a feast of broiled cockatrice steaks, roasted popotoes, sauteed Kazham peppers and San d'Orian carrots, beaugreens, and several delicious sauces. And as the plates were cleared away and dessert plates were brought out, the familiar cries of "Speech! Speech!" rang out, and Crying Swan repeated the tale he had told the night before. The cake was cut, the section beneath the figurines being placed upon a single plate before the guests of honor. Mother stood on a bench beside them. "This cake is one of the wedding traditions of my tribe," she explained. "It represents the house of the new couple, and the whole thing must be eaten tonight before you two go to bed, or your marriage will be a sad one. So go ahead and eat up."

"What about the little figures? They're too cute to eat."

"The dolls too."

Crying Swan and Floria looked at each other, and then found themselves giggling. Floria reached out and took the figurine of her Tarutaru groom. "I'll just pretend I'm a Malboro," she said with a wicked smile and bit its head off.

The dishes were cleared away when the cake was gone, and then the furnishings were pushed back to the walls, opening up the floor of the hall. Kasim the merchant brought out his his fiddle and Ameymey appeared with a small hand-held drum painted in the bright Windurstian style. And soon they were all dancing gleefully, the spirited rounds and reels of Bastokan tradition. To Ameymey's drum, Dedden and Crying Swan stomped their Galka jigs much to everyone's amusement, at least until a couple of Moogles came out of the kitchen and complained that the dishes were beginning to vibrate off of the shelves. And then a pair of Mithra came in, wondering what all the music was and why there was no one on duty outside. Normally the Outposts were quiet, cheerless places. The guards insisted the two adventurers stay so that there were more ladies to dance with, and so the dancing went on.

When the midnight hour chimed on the clock, Captain Gaury ordered the nightmen to their posts and everyone else to bed, though Mother insisted that the tables and benches be put back in place first. Calliope took Floria by the hand and led her to the guest room. "Mother and I fixed it up for you," she beamed.

Indeed the room had been fixed up. More of the same garlands that decorated the hall hung from the ceiling here. A barrel had been brought in, draped with a tablecloth, and adorned with a large vase of lilacs. Their sweet perfume filled the small room. A bench sat at the end of the bed supporting their bags. Candles had been placed about the room in glass cups, which Calliope set about lighting. The bed, normally just a straw-stuffed mattress and two tired-out pillows, had been given a mountain of fluffy, fresh pillows, a robing of linens, and a beautiful oversized quilt. "And look!" Calliope pulled back the covers and patted the bedding underneath. "Mother and I stole the Captain's feather mattress!" she giggled.

"Oh! This is too much. Won't he be mad?"

"Of course, but it was Mother's idea. Now grab your kit and let's go wash up."

Calliope now led her outside to the latrines and then to the bathhouse, flipping over the sign on the door from 'men' to 'women.' She drew a hot shallow bath, filling the small room with steam. "This is very kind of you," Floria said as she undressed.

"Mother insisted. Now wash up good."

As Floria stepped into the bathwater a knock came at the door of the bathhouse, which Calliope answered. The two Mithra stood there, apparently not having left the outpost yet. "We want to wash the bride!" one exclaimed.

"Yes, we want to wash the bride!"

Calliope seemed a bit shocked at the request. "I'm sure the bride can wash herself."

"But she needs to be extra nice and clean. We always give a bride a bath on her wedding night back in Windurst."

"Well this isn't Windurst."

"But we do in Kazham too."

"And this isn't Kazham either."

Floria giggled, listening to Calliope argue with the two ladies. By the time she had finally gotten them to go away, Floria had finished and was drying off.

"And don't even think about asking to bathe the groom either!" she snarled after them.

Floria put on her nightgown and threw her tunic and boots over it. "All ready!" she said.

* * *

Mother caught Floria in the hallway as she returned to the guestroom and pulled her into the kitchen. "I don't know if your mother has had that little talk with you about what happens tonight, but I feel that I should." She paused. "Though...your husband's a Galka...so I'm not really sure about...well..." Mother seemed at a loss, but then found her usual confidence and reached into her pocket. "Well whatever happens, you'll want these. I can't tell you how many I've given to new brides, but they're the secret to a happy marriage." She smiled and put something into Floria's hand. "When you've put on your nightgown and said your prayers."

Floria shyly looked down into the palm of her hand, nervous about what she would find there.

"Earplugs?"

Mother nodded enthusiastically. "Good luck, sweetie." She kissed the Hume on the cheek and pushed her back into the hallway.

Floria made her way quietly back to the guestroom, the warm candlelight seeming so welcoming. Crying Swan was there waiting for her...sound asleep in the bed, too exhausted to stay awake any longer. "Poor thing," she sighed. His hand lay across her pillow, his wedding ring glinting on his finger—the ring she had given him when he had proposed to her. Months before she had secretly purchased it, and secretly she had carried it about, too shy to ask him to marry her. For so long it hung on a cord about her neck under her clothing, hanging over her heart.

She slipped out of her boots and tunic, blew out the candles, and climbed into bed beside him.

* * *

Floria woke to find her husband propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. The light of the newborn day showed through the high windows, just enough of a glow to illuminate the room. His lips rose in a smile. "Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I'm not done staring at you."

She smiled back. "Why are you staring?"

"I'm trying to comprehend everything that's just happened to us."

"Don't try to. Just enjoy it." She closed her eyes and nestled against his arm.

He sighed and bent forward to kiss her as he often had the past week. "I'm wondering when I'll stop thinking of you as my White Mage and start thinking of you as my wife."

"I wonder when I'll start thinking of you as my husband. We've been adventuring partners so long."

"For so long I've wanted to embrace you and smell your hair and listen to your heartbeat, but I've always had to hold back. And now that I can, it seems so difficult to get used to. He stroked her face and short blonde hair, his touch as light as the brush of a falling leaf as he explored her skin with his fingertips. The great strength in his body could be subdued so easily. He traced her eyebrows and lips, the edges of her ears, the swell of her breasts.

Floria lay still, breathing gently, not wanting to interrupt or distract him from this intimate moment. She could not help but wonder what thoughts were coursing through his mind. What was he feeling? Was his love for her platonic but wearing the mask of the romantic? Or had she awakened latent passions in his being? Were there vestigial sexual feelings stirring in the ancient biology? Was the Talekeeper lying awake in Bastok trying to figure out what new fire ran through the collective memories?

She remembered her promise to him, that she would accept him as a Galka, and not expect him to make himself a Hume for her. She would not question his emotions and behaviors when he said they were within the norms of his people. In return, he had promised to honor the same for her humanity.

And then he lay his head on her chest, his ear pressed against her bare skin.

"Your heartbeat is beautiful," he sighed after listening for a while, every fiber of his being awash with passion.

"It beats for you," she whispered.

* * *

Floria woke again later, finding the room brighter but missing her groom. "Darling?" She sat up in the bed. "Darling?" A sudden tightness seized her throat when she saw that his armor and travel bag were gone. Her own bag sat where she had left it the night before, her wedding clothing draped over it. "Swan...?" she whimpered and bolted from the room and down the hall.

The guards and staff of the Outpost all looked up as Floria suddenly burst in on their breakfast. Poor Ameymey almost dropped the platter of sausages she was carrying.

"Good morning, Love," Swan beamed and slid over on the bench to open a spot for her. "Hungry?" He had not noticed her distress.

"There you are! I'd thought...I'd thought that you'd...your bag was gone."

"I'd just packed up since you said you wanted to get an early start. The bag's by the door. Did you need something from it?" He rose and went to her.

"Dummy," Mother chided the Galka. "She thought you'd run away in the night."

Swan looked confused, and then indignant. "Why would I run away? I just married her."

Mother huffed. "Because it happens sometimes. Men get caught up in the moment and then when they realize what's happened, they take off." She scowled up at him. "And it happens a bit more with adventurers."

Swan suddenly realized his error. His thoughtfulness had been interpreted wrongly, not realizing the delicate emotions of his new bride. He dropped to one knee and held her close. "I'm so sorry, my love. If I'd known..."

One of the guards laughed. "I guess the honeymoon's over."

Mother knocked him on the back of the head with the spoon she was serving eggs with. "Hush up!"

Swan rose and kissed Floria on the forehead. "Come have breakfast. It's really good. Good coffee from Al Zahbi too." He took her hand and guided her to the table.

"Let me get dressed first," she said timidly, suddenly realizing that the guards were all staring at the flimsy nightgown she was wearing, or more likely staring at her through the impossibly thin fabric.

"You look beautiful," Swan smiled and nudged her forward.

"Yes, you look lovely. We're not formal around here for breakfast," chimed in Captain Gaury, trying to hide the fact that he had been staring himself. True, several of his crew were sitting about in their undershirts and partial armor.

Somehow from across the table his mother managed to whack him with her spoon. "Go get dressed, dearie," she said sweetly to Floria. "It's chilly in here."

* * *

Floria and Crying Swan said their goodbyes to the guards, the staff, and Captain Gaury. Mother was still trying to talk them into staying another night. Floria quickly whisked them away to the Crag of Altep where they hired chocobos and rode into the desert oasis of Rabao.

An adventurer turned entrepreneur had purchased an empty section of Rabao's under-utilized space against the cliffs. He had set up something of a tent hotel, a cluster of rooms created by canvas stretched over wooden frames atop wooden platforms. And while it was not luxurious, the rooms kept the sun and the sand off, and they had been a welcome alternative to sleeping unprotected in the open. The Moogles had moved in almost immediately, and the bridal pair found theirs waiting for them when there innkeeper showed them to their place.

"Master! I'm so happy to see you! Kupo!" Floria's Moogle cried and threw his wiggling white body into Floria's arms. "Oh! You should see the Mog House! People keep sending gifts and it's full of flowers and packages! Will you be coming home to Bastok soon?"

Floria petted her Moogle affectionately. "We're going to stay here in Rabao for a while, but not too long."

The Moogle looked genuinely disappointed.

Crying Swan's Moogle held himself more formally. "Master, I presume that you won't be coming home anytime soon, either."

Swan shook his head. "We're going to explore the ruins out here first."

"Master, when you return to Bastok, will you and your wife be moving into one Mog House together?"

"Yes, though we plan on retaining both of you Moogles. We'd miss you too much."

The Moogle gave a floating bow. "Thank you, Master, for neither of us could bear to leave you either."

Floria dressed in her archer's armor, the trade of a ranger being the one non-mage job she had ever been interested in, and then packed her Gobbiebag with snacks, a meal, three lanterns, lengths of robe, and plenty of silent oil—the things they would need for a long day down in the underground ruins. And then she unrolled the large map of Zepwell Island she had purchased. Known entrances and passages within the ruins were carefully marked. "So where to?" she asked.

* * *

The adventure continues in Chapter Three of Madness.

* * *

FFXI and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of SquareEnix. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	3. Underground

**Madness**

**Chapter Three – Underground**

On their third day of exploring the ancient realm of Crying Swan's people, they found themselves deep underground in a set of chambers leading off of a wide hallway. The walls were of the typical architecture, and with the typical "door enlargement" that the Anticans practiced. For some reason the ant people found narrow doorways and passages to their dislike, and any place deemed too cramped had its walls torn away or its archways removed. In many places their brutal remodeling had brought the ceiling down, and cave-ins created many dead-end passageways.

Floria suddenly let out a loud, frightened gasp that drew Swan immediately to her side, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What is it?" he asked quickly, and then saw her eyes were upon the ceiling. "What are they?" he wondered aloud on looking up.

"Antican pupae maybe?" Across the hall they had found an Antican nursery where eggs were slung up in cloth cradles.

From the ceiling of the room hung dozens of pale cocoons. Swan lifted his lantern, and then nearly dropped it in shock at his realization. "Galka! They're dead Galka."

"But why...? What is this place?"

"I don't know." His voice betrayed fear.

Floria clung tightly to his arm. "This place is creepy."

Crying Swan gathered his courage, hung his lantern from the hilt of his sword, and raised it up close to one of the bodies, and then to another. Some of the shrouds and wrappings had eroded, revealing skeletal faces and limbs of dried flesh.

"It looks like a tomb, but why are they hanging? And why a tomb? I thought you all went off on your Journey of Rebirth alone. Is this where you come?"

"I don't know. Maybe it is where we wander to. But these bodies look old...like they've been here for at least a hundred years."

"Let's go. I've had enough for today."

Swan agreed with his wife, and they departed quickly, both left uneasy by the sight in the room.

* * *

The beautiful sunset brushed away the anxiety, and they were soon back in Rabao enjoying a meal, having found that the Goblin Tavern there served more than Goblin fare. The skilled Mithra cook in the back could prepare anything she was brought in the San d'Orian style. So tonight they purchased a fresh sandfish from a fisherman at the waters and a few ingredients from the auction house. The Mithra quickly cleaned the fish, and before their first bottle of wine was empty, fillets were served to them on huge platters.

As usual after dinner, they walked slowly around the pools of Rabao, enjoying the breezes of the evening and the starlight above. They would slip off their sandals and rest their feet in the cool, effervescent water. And when the first one yawned, they would head back to the inn and tuck down for the night, wrapped happily together in each others' arms, Swan's head against Floria's chest or back where he could hear her heartbeat as he fell asleep.

* * *

Crying Swan's dreams that night were not pleasant ones, coming early in the night and taking him places he would rather not go. A whirlwind tableau of of enemies and darkness and blood buffeted him. Floria was nowhere to be seen. And then he found himself in the cavern of the mummies, only now they hung low enough to touch the floor. Some even lay upon the sand.

In his hands he found a shroud. Almost instinctively he began to wrap himself into it, trying to cover his body. But the shroud refused to cooperate, and it continually slid off of him and ripped when he tried to pull it into place. His tail would not cooperate either and refused to tuck neatly down along the back of his legs. Soon the cloth hung in tatters.

Anxiously he sought another shroud—perhaps there was another lying about, perhaps he could use one that covered another mummy. He found one that hung loosely on its owner and tried to shake the bones out of it, but the bones fleshed out and clung to the graveclothes. The emaciated Galka inside would not let him have it. "Please," he begged. "I need it." The corpse fought back.

Crying Swan tried another, but met with the same results. Turning to seek yet another, he found the room nearly empty. Only a handful of mummies remained. There had been so many at first. Desperately he tried to take the shroud of another mummy, fighting the body inside of it. "You can't have it!" the corpse growled at him, shooing him away with a flailing arm that looked more alive than dead. "You're not one of us."

"I am one of you," Swan answered. "You have to help me."

"You scare us."

"What? Why would I?" He looked around, finding the chamber empty of all but dust and sand. Not a single mummy remained, save the one he was wrestling with for the sheet of ancient cloth. "Where are they? Where did they go?" he demanded of his reluctant opponent. The man stood now before him, appearing very much alive and healthy, its shroud gone.

"Goodbye," the former corpse said and began to walk away.

"Take me with you. Don't leave me," he pleaded.

The man simply walked off into the darkness.

"No! Don't go!" Swan called after him. He tried to follow but his feet sank into the sand. "Don't leave me!"

* * *

Crying Swan was unable to hide the troubled thoughts in his head from his wife as they rose and dressed. "Something's bothering you," she said softly. "You look upset." She touched his stomach compassionately. "What's bothering you?"

"Not much. Just some bad dreams."

"Awww..." she kissed him and hugged him tightly for a moment. "Hopefully they'll pass."

The innkeeper served them breakfast in the communal room of his hotel, bringing them fresh fruit, rolls, preserved meats, and tea with Dhalmel's milk and sugar. The wind shuddered the canvas roof above them. "We'll be checking out today," Swan informed the innkeeper when he came back with a plate of sweet pastries.

"We will?" Floria asked. This was news to her—the plan had been to stay for two more nights.

"Very well, Sir. I'll total up your charges."

"We're going back to Bastok now?" Floria inquired, rather puzzled by the sudden change of plans.

Swan shook his head.

* * *

They took Chocobos from Rabao to the eastern parts of the island, riding south across the great dunefields. The winds blew unusually strong and Floria fought to keep her eyes open, and fought harder to keep her balance atop the Chocobo. If she fell off he would not see. Off in the distance an immense whirlwind gyrated menacingly. "Darling! Darling! Can we rest?" she called, tired already, but her voice was lost in the wind. Swan traveled on without slowing for some unknown destination. His blue cape streamed out in the wind behind him. She squinted her eyes and hunkered as close to the saddle as she could. Hopefully he would stop soon.

The wind stopped first, and then Swan halted the Chocobos. They had ridden into one of the entrances of the ruins. Swan dismounted and slapped the rump of the giant bird in dismissal. Floria slid off of her Chocobo as well.

Swan was already digging into their bag, removing only one lantern. "Wait here for me will you, my Love?"

Floria was shaking the sand out her her tunic. "Of course, Darling. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I'll be fine. It's something I have to do alone."

Floria suddenly noticed the footprints in the sand—theirs from yesterday—leading out of the darkness. "This is where we exited last night," she exclaimed.

"Yes, it is," he said as he lit the lantern.

"You're going back to the mummies, aren't you? Is that what's troubling you?"

He nodded somberly.

"When will you return?" Her voice seemed small and timid.

He set down the lantern and took her into his arms. "I don't know. Wait for me until the food runs out. And then go home to Bastok."

Her eyes suddenly flooded with tears. The food she had packed that morning would last her about two days, four if she ate lightly. "Take me with you. I don't to be alone that long."

He took her face into his hands and kissed her trembling lips. "Wait for me. You know I always come back if I know you're waiting for me."

She nodded, trying to be brave and to stop her tears. He smiled for her, but his eyes were sad.

Swan kissed her again, picked up his solitary lantern, and headed underground.

Floria sat down against the stone wall, suddenly feeling very alone, having grown accustomed to the constant companionship of the past week. There had always been someone there with her. She thought to light a fire, but there was nothing here to burn. Anxiously she wrapped her cloak tightly around herself. The chill of the night still lingered in the cave-like entrance. Perhaps she could fall asleep, and the time would pass before she knew it. But how long would it be?

* * *

Please enjoy the final chapter, chapter four, of Madness.

* * *

FFXI and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of SquareEnix. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	4. Galka Business

**Madness**

**Chapter Four – Galka Business**

Crying Swan descended into the Quicksand caves, the light of his lantern flickering across the ancient stone walls. The Anticans peered quietly, their antennae twitching in the air, sending out their silent language. He soon found the room he sought and entered reverently.

They hung there above his head, undisturbed and lifeless. The dust lay heavily on their winding shrouds. The only movement around came from the Anticans who padded endlessly about the chambers and hall, and the occasional eruption of a worm through the sand.

Swan set down his lantern and leaned back against the wall of the chamber. "What were you trying to tell me?" he whispered to the mummies. "You scared me, and yet you said that I scared you."

An Antican wandered past him and peered into his face for a moment.

"Get lost," Swan huffed at it.

The Beastman moved on.

He stared up at the hanging graveyard a long time, hoping that Floria would forgive him for abandoning her like this. He could imagine her where he had left her, huddled up with her arms drawn in tightly, the hood of her tunic pulled up closely around her face. Images from their last adventure together flashed through his mind, when Velaulien had dragged the linkshell off to the shadow realm in the Northlands. There in a dimension of eternal night, they fought demons and their kin for what seemed days. At one point when the fighting grew fierce, he pulled back, provoking a couple of demons away from the main group. His armor and physique were able to hold up to the battering longer than anyone else's.

Then he felt healing magic surge through him, and he caught a glimpse of Floria, hands aloft, bright against the canyon wall. She kept him alive until the rest of the group could take out the demons...but at a cost. One of the brutes had suddenly run over to her and flung her against the icy rock. As soon as he could, Swan limped over to where she lay unconscious. Her eyes were closed tightly and her blood spattered the snow with crimson dots. His heart rolled in a wave of guilt and admiration, and then only love for her.

Delicately he picked her up and carried her over to a knot of resting mages, laying her back down amongst them like an oversized ragdoll. Carefully he chanted the reviving spell, and soon she was huddled up resting with the others. "I'm sorry," he apologized as he crouched to rest beside her. "I couldn't keep it's attention."

Her hand fell lightly upon his arm. And as if his skin were bare, not shielded by thick layers of metal and cloth, he could feel the warmth and devotion in her touch. No words were said. The next day he took five Ancient Beastcoins to the Goldsmithing Guild in Bastok, where he had them melted down and reforged into a gold ring set with the sparkling diamonds.

Footsteps sounded in the sand, more plodding than those of the Anticans. He looked toward the room's entrance, seeing the distinctive silhouette of a large and well-armored Galka against the light of the hall outside. The man walked slowly toward him, and as he entered the light of the lantern, Swan recognized a face he had not expected to see.

"Zeid!" Crying Swan fell to his knees in respect of the great Galka.

"I've been trying to find you for a while. You're the one they're whispering about in Bastok." His voice was slow and his words were spoken with much heaviness. "Get up."

Swan rose, wondering how long the other man had been there, and what was in store for him. Zeid only appeared when the news was important. And he flinched when Zeid stepped close and drew his finger across the Paladin's cheek. "Tears," he huffed.

"Forgive my weakness. Seeing our dead makes me sad."

Zeid turned and looked at the corpses hanging above them. "We rarely see our dead these days."

"Did the Anticans do this?"

Zeid shook his head. "You're standing on sacred ground. This area was once part of a temple of Altana. These mummies are at least six hundred years old. When our civilization was at its height, our dead did not go away on a journey of rebirth. Those ready to be reborn would be sealed away in the temple, where the light of Altana would come to them here. When the new child emerged, what was left of the discarded body would be wrapped in a shroud and lashed to the ceiling, had the body belonged to a magistrate. Warriors and workers were cremated in the burning ghat outside. Those you see here were once our leaders and administrators and priests."

The two stared silently for a long time at their ancestors, hanging like grisly cocoons above them.

"I have a warning for you, Doragg," Zeid said, breaking the contemplative silence.

"A warning?" Swan paused, and then sighed. "This is about my marriage, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Zeid, I mean no disrespect, but I made a decision and I intend to see it through. I know our union is unconventional, unorthodox if you want to call it. Physically we're incompatible and we're well aware of it. Floria and I would only be fooling ourselves if we thought somehow things would just work out. But this marriage is about love and devotion ...not about biology."

Zeid laughed grimly. "I see you've already worked on a defense. If only it were about biology. But that's not what has everyone on edge. Haven't you realized it yet? Your marriage reminds everyone of a fateful love long ago. That love between a Galka and a Hume woman almost destroyed the world, and it did change everything as we knew it."

The names of the fateful couple came to his lips. "Raogrimm and Cornelia..." he breathed timidly.

Crying Swan sat down in the sand. Why had he not even thought of it. No wonder Zeid had sought him out. "But it wasn't their fault!" he suddenly blurted. "If it hadn't been for Ulrich it never would have happened!"

"There will always be an Ulrich. There will always be a villain."

"But big deal! I'm not him and I know of at least two others that have married Hume women. There's no law against it. Did you go visit them with a scolding?"

"Doragg, the community looks up to you. You're a hero and an inspiration to them, and don't take this lightly or try to be modest about it. Even Gumbah thinks you're something special, and that's why he's so upset about it. He's the one that sent me to find you."

Zeid sat down in the sand next to him, and even more to Crying Swan's surprise, the great Dark Knight took his helmet off. His charcoal-grey hair was streaked with white and his face was much lined from many years of war and worry, giving him the look of undeserved age and wisdom. "I remember back when you were Doragg, the guy running the west conveyor belt in Palborough. Then the Great War came, and you joined the army. And after the war, you bought your own armor and took up the sword and became an adventurer. Even took a new name."

"You refuse to call me by it...you never have."

"To me, you will always be Doragg, because Raogrimm gave you that name, as he named me Zeid. If you were still Doragg, running that conveyor belt back in Palborough, no one would care about this marriage. But you're somebody now, a great man. Your name's even come up several times for inclusion in the Mythril Musketeers."

Crying Swan was stunned. "No one's told me. Seriously?"

"Seriously. And that's part of why everyone's drawing these parallels."

Swan felt defeated despite the good news. "Zeid...what do I do?"

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "I've never known a romantic relationship myself. I've only been an observer. I can still remember seeing Cornelia and Raogrimm kiss, and thinking how strange their affections were. And later when I found out that she'd given her life to save his, I decided that love was madness, but one so many people seek out." He paused. "Doragg, I'm not going to ask you to leave her, only to hear these warnings."

"I wouldn't leave her, even if you asked me to. Even if Gumbah told me to."

"Do you think she would do as Cornelia did? Would she sacrifice herself for you?"

Swan sighed in embarrassment. "I think she would. She tells me how much I mean to her, though she's never said it right out that she would die for me. I know I would give my life to save hers."

"You're both mad then."

He sighed wistfully. "Perhaps we are, but it's a wonderful madness."

And then Zeid smiled at him. "You have my respect, as little as I might agree with you," said the Dark Knight. "You are a great man, and that greatness comes with a price. But I think you have enough honor and self-confidence and inner strength to pay that price."

"That's high praise, coming from you." He took Zeid's hand and clasped it firmly. "I shall endeavor to never lose that praise."

Zeid rose and put his helmet back on. "Let's go kill some Anticans while we're down here, shall we?" He unsheathed his dreaded great sword.

And though they could not understand the language spoken by the two Galka, the nearby Anticans were suddenly eyeing the drawn weapon nervously.

* * *

Just before sunset Crying Swan and Zeid emerged from the labyrinthine ruins, covered in the foul blood and bile of their racial enemies. Floria ran to greet her husband as he came along the shadowy passageway, but stopped dead on seeing what a vile mess he and his companion were. "I brought you something," he grinned and tossed forth a bag of loot to her.

She peered into it briefly, and her eyes lit up at all the valuables he had come back with—scrolls and weapons and a few jewels. "I see you killed a few Anticans down there."

"Just a few that got in my way."

"You need a bath...badly."

Swan laughed heartily. "The Oasis of Garidav is just to the west. We can clean up there." He turned to Zeid. "Come with us. You can get to know the source of my madness."

Zeid shook his head. "Thank you, but I'll pass today."

Swan took his hand. "All right, but the invitation will always stand."

And the Dark Knight was gone in a swirl of purple light and black smoke.

Floria gathered up her things and they walked to the oasis, where she pushed her husband into the springs. As each piece of armor came off, she'd scrub it clean with handfuls of sand and a small cloth, and soon Swan was just sitting in waist-deep water in his loincloth, scouring his pale skin vigorously.

"You seem to be in a better mood now," Floria said, patting him dry with a towel when he emerged from the pools.

"Yes. Much better."

"Who was that other guy? He looked like Zeid." She paused. "That was Zeid, wasn't it? I don't mean to pry, but what was this all about?"

Swan shook his head. "Galka business. I'll tell you another time. Tonight I just want to hold you and kiss you and be glad you're mine. Let me listen to the beating of your heart."

"Darling," she smiled and pulled him close using the towel now draped over his shoulders..

He wrapped his arms around her and held on a long time, watching the stars begin to appear above them.

* * *

FFXI and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of SquareEnix. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	5. Madness Commentary

**Madness Commentary**

**I suppose another title for this fanfic could be "Everything You Wanted to Know About Galkas but Were Afraid to Ask." As I told my friends, it was difficult to write because we know so little of their race's private lives, and they are the most alien of the five races from our human perspective. Sure you can complain about the developers including so little on them, but if you think about it, they don't fill in the same desired details on any of the races. As Humans we understand the ways of the Hume. What we know provides the missing information. If we were Galkas playing this same game, we'd find gaps on the Hume race.**

**So you've probably found that I've written beyond the canon, and maybe you liked some of the theorizing, and maybe you were writhing in anguish. Yes, liberties were taken, but I feel they were all in stride.**

**I still remember the first time I stumbled into the two caches of mummies down in the depths of the Quicksand Caves. No one had an answer as to how they got there, or why they were there. There was even this JP Galka wandering around down there killing Anticans, and we somehow got him to look too, and then tried to get him to explain why they were there using the auto-translate function: "Galka" "Death" "I don't understand."**

**But then I had this idea of their bodies being there intentionally, and came up with a reason behind the cache of mummies. Suddenly all these pieces of Galka reincarnation fell into place, giving the Light of Altana a heretical function as a communal mythical wife and mother to the first of her chosen races. How appropriate that Swan sheds tears over the dead, for in the legend tears were the original generative force, and he stands before the husks of regeneration.**

**And that pinnacle of Galka intimacy, listening to a heartbeat...perhaps you found it too bland a concept, but I ask you to think about it. What could be more personal and physically connecting for a non-sexual creatures than to listen to the sound of someone's life. The heartbeat comes from deep inside our body, sheltered in our ribcage, a fortress of bone to protect our lungs and our heart. Our lungs carry our breath and spirit. The heart carries our blood and soul, beating faithfully until death.**

*** * ***

**And sometimes there's a song somewhere that seems to fit exactly what I'm writing. If you've never heard this beautiful duet, look it up and give it a listen.**

******I Finally Found Someone****  
(As sung by Bryan Adams and Barbara Streisand)**

_[Bryan:]_ I finally found someone, who knocks me off my feet;  
_[Bryan:]_ I finally found the one who makes me feel complete...  
_[Barbara:]_ It started over coffee, we started out as friends;  
_[Barbara:]_ It's funny how from simple things; the best things begin...  
_[Bryan:]_ This time is different;  
_[Barbara:]_ la la la la  
_[Bryan:]_ It's all because of you!..  
_[Bryan:]_ It's better than it's ever been;  
_[Together:]_ Cuz we can talk it through;  
_[Barbara:]_ My favorite line was "Can I call you sometime?";  
_[Barbara:]_ It's all you had to say...  
_[Together:]_ To take my breath away...

_[Together:]_ This is it!  
_[Together:]_ Oh, I finally found someone; Someone to share my life;  
_[Together:]_ I finally found the one - to be with every night;  
_[Barbara:]_ Cause whatever I do  
_[Bryan:]_ It's just got to be you!  
_[Together:]_ My life has just begun, I finally found someone...

_[Bryan:]_ Did I keep you waiting?  
_[Barbara:]_ I didn't mind  
_[Bryan:]_ I apologize  
_[Barbara:]_ Baby, that's fine  
_[Bryan:]_ I would wait forever  
_[Together:]_ Just to know you were mine;  
_[Bryan:]_ Ya Know - I love your hair...  
_[Barbara:]_ Are you sure it looks right?  
_[Bryan:]_ I love what you wear...  
_[Barbara:]_ Isn't it too tight?  
_[Bryan:]_ You're exceptional!  
_[Together:]_ I can't wait for the rest of my life...

_[Together:]_ Oh This Is It!  
_[Together:]_ I finally found someone; Someone to share my life,  
_[Together:]_ I finally found the one; to be with every night...  
_[Barbara:]_ Cause whatever I do  
_[Bryan:]_ It's just got to be you  
_[Together:]_ My life has just begun; I finally found someone...  
_[Barbara:]_ And whatever I do.  
_[Bryan:]_ It's just got to be you!  
_[Barbara:]_ My life has just begun...  
_[Together:]_ I finally found someone...

** * * ***

******An Alternative Scene**

Swan laughed heartily. "The Oasis of Garidav is just to the west. We can clean up there." He turned to Zeid. "Come with us. You can get to know the source of my madness."

**Zeid shook his head. "Thanks for the offer but I'll have to pass**

*** * ***

* * *

**FFXI and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of SquareEnix. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete**


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